


Under Attack

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Historical RPF, Mongolian History RPF
Genre: F/F, Loyalty, Mongolia, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-14 04:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: Töregene won’t surrender Fatima to Güyük’s men.





	Under Attack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



> I'm as surprised as you are that it's possible to write a G-rated fic about these two, or about the Mongols in general. But here we are.
> 
> Happy Yuletide! Hope you enjoy :D

Fatima has always been loyal to Töregene. All the years together, all the things they have done… Töregene cannot forget that Fatima has always been there for her – as her servant, her minister, and her lifelong companion. They have defended each other in the darkest times, and this is no different.

Accused of witchcraft, Fatima is in mortal danger, thanks to Güyük’s betrayal. Töregene is not surprised that her own flesh and blood has turned against her – they are Mongols, after all – but she is disappointed. Disappointed and _furious_ : Güyük insists that Töregene hand Fatima over to him for punishment.

Of course, she will not. This woman, whom she loves more than any other, deserves a quiet retirement and long life. This woman deserves the world, in Töregene’s eyes. And Töregene has always done whatever she can to give it to her.

After sending Güyük’s men away from her camp for the third time, she sits back in her chair, puts her feet on a stool, and sighs. Her bones are weary; she is too old for this. She should be safe in her own home, cared for by children and grandchildren, but instead they must quarrel. She has had enough.

Fatima enters the ger with a bowl that she places in Töregene’s hands. Airag. The smile they share lifts Töregene’s spirits, knowing that Fatima always senses what she needs, and provides it.

“I thought Yeke Khatun might be in want of a drink,” says Fatima, standing behind Töregene and massaging her aching shoulders.

“You know me too well, Fatima.” Töregene sips at the airag and sighs. “My son will stop at nothing to take you from me. I will never let that happen. But I don’t know what to do.”

Fatima drops her hands from Töregene’s shoulders and comes to stand in front of her. “If he’s your son, he is capable of anything. If he has even half your determination, Allah himself cannot save me.”

An ugly scowl crosses Töregene’s weathered face. “I would take my own life before giving you over to him. I will not seal your fate.” She stands so they are eye level. “I hope you know me better than that.”

Fatima gives her a sad smile, as if she has already accepted her fate. “It will be better for you if you hand me over.”

“Perhaps,” Töregene admits, knowing Fatima is right as usual. “But it will not be better for _you_. I have been a selfish woman, but I will not be this time. I will fight for you – always.”

Fatima embraces Töregene, holding her tight. “Thank you,” she whispers in Töregene’s ear. “Thank you.”

There is no need to respond; they both know their bond is unbreakable and they would do anything to save each other. There is no need for any more words, as Fatima knows Töregene well enough to read her silence.

Just as they have always done, they will endure. Women like them always have and always will.


End file.
